


Do Come Home for Christmas

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, M/M, also the title is cliche as fuck I know, car crashes, if you’ve read anything else I’ve written you know what’s coming oops, obligatory sad boy pete
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2019-09-24 17:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17105246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Patrick can’t wait to spend Christmas with Pete. What he doesn’t count on is that they might be spending it in a hospital room and not under a tree.





	Do Come Home for Christmas

Patrick spent practically all day getting ready for Pete to arrive.

He set up the Christmas tree-it was a plastic one, he and Pete had had it pretty much since they moved in together-and strung it with baubles and rainbow-colored lights. The lights sparkled off the shining glass baubles, casting little dots of colored light all over the room. It felt magical. Patrick revelled in it for a while before hanging up their stockings above the fireplace. He and Pete each had a knitted stocking with their name on it. They were ugly as hell, sure, but Patrick loved them. The stockings were a gift from Joe. Patrick strung more lights around the living room (as if it needed more lights), causing the whole room to fill with gentle shimmers of bright color. At last Patrick gently placed the wrapped gifts he’d gotten for Pete under the tree.

Just as Patrick was sitting back to admire his handiwork, he heard his phone ring. The screen displayed Pete’s number. 

“Pete? Is everything alright?” Patrick could hear what he thought was a siren coming from the other end of the call, but he tried not to think much of it.

“Yeah, ‘Trick, it’s fine.” Pete’s voice sounded strained.

“Are you sure? What’s going on?”

“Look, the roads were icy up here. I was being stupid-“

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Patrick clapped his hand over his mouth. He couldn’t help but be horrified.

“It was just an accident.”

“Just an accident, Pete? Just? You wrecked your car and did who knows what to yourself.”

“Patrick, I said I was fine.”

“You don’t sound fine.” Patrick could see right through Pete. Pete had always been terrible at pretending to be okay, and this was no exception. Every word he spoke sounded like it was causing him pain.

“I’ll be okay.”

“Just let me know what hospital you’re at, okay? I’ll come see you as soon as possible.”

“It’s the one near your place. But the roads are really dangerous! I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“Pete, it’s a five minute drive. I’ll be fine. I’m coming to see you.”

“Patrick, no, you don’t want to see me like this.”

“I don’t care how bad it is, Pete, I want to see you.”

Patrick hung up quickly before Pete could say anything that would change his mind. He put on his warmest jacket, hopped in his car, and began his drive to the hospital.

The roads weren’t nearly as icy as Pete had made them out to be-at least, not in Patrick’s neighborhood. Maybe they were worse closer to downtown. Whatever the case may have been, Patrick made it to the hospital in no time flat. By the time he arrived, snow had begun to fall. Patrick wasn’t looking forward to driving home in the snow, but he had a sneaking suspicion he’d be spending the night in the hospital with Pete.

_Everything is going to be fine,_ Patrick kept telling himself. _Pete is going to be perfectly fine, and he’ll come home tomorrow and then we can spend Christmas together just like always._

He rushed into the lobby and asked the woman at the desk where Pete was.

“And what is your relationship to Mr. Wentz, sir?” she asked.

“He’s my… friend,” Patrick sighed, not wanting to deal with the whole “yes I’m gay, yes he’s my boyfriend, no I won’t tell you about my sex life” discussion while Pete was in some hospital bed suffering without him.

“Alright…I see, you are listed as his emergency contact, Mr. Stump. I’ll call someone down to show you to his room.”

Patrick thanked her, and went to sit on one of the chairs in the waiting room. He fidgeted awkwardly with the cuffs on his jacket out of nervousness. It dawned on him that he didn’t really know how badly hurt Pete really was. Granted, Pete had been able to talk to him over the phone, so it couldn’t be too bad. But what if he walked into that hospital room to see every inch of his beloved Pete covered with blood and bruises? Was he even prepared to handle that?

This was decidedly the worst way to spend the holiday season. The Christmas garlands and wreaths that lined the walls of the waiting room only served to taunt him as to what could be. Christmas was in three days. Pete had to be home by then, he just had to.

_Oh, Pete, you better be okay._

Patrick watched the fish tank. Why do they always have fish tanks in hospital waiting rooms, anyway? The fish weren’t calming, just… mesmerising. They kept Patrick’s eyes busy, but his mind was still on Pete, generating the worst possible situations. In his mind he still couldn’t help but see Pete caked with blood and covered in bruises, his face mangled by broken glass and his ribcage cracked open and his poor little heart barely beating.

“Mr. Stump?”

Patrick almost didn’t want to go back with the woman who had called him. He reluctantly stood up and followed her through a pair of double doors. Rather than consciously moving, he let his feet do the work while he focused his mind on imagining the most horrific condition Pete could be in at that moment. He could almost see the accident in his mind. Pete losing control, crying out to no one in desperation as his car slid off the road, hitting… something. A sign, a rail, a tree, it didn’t matter. Glass shattered. Metal caved in. Blood sprayed and bones cracked and tears flowed.

“Sir, are you alright?”

Patrick looked up at the woman he’d been following.

“Yeah, I… it’s nothing.”

“Like I said, I’m one of Pete’s nurses” _He has multiple nurses, it must be bad._ “I’m going to be tending to him for the night.” _They know he’s staying the night. God, it has to be awful._ “You can stay with him if you like. His condition isn’t critical, he should be okay soon.”

This was not very reassuring.

The nurse opened another door. Patrick closed his eyes reflexively. He couldn’t bear to look. What if it was as bad as he had really thought? He couldn’t look at Pete like that.

“Patrick!”

It was Pete. It was unmistakably Pete; it was that same stupid rough voice Patrick had heard a million times before and loved so very very much. He finally worked up the courage to open an eye.

“Oh my god, Pete. Oh my god.”

“Trust me, it’s not as bad as it looks. They’ve given me a whole lot of painkillers, I don’t feel a thing.” Pete smiled. Somehow, through all the horror, he smiled. A trickle of blood ran from the gash on his cheek. His smile was lopsided, one of his eyes was so bruised and swollen he couldn’t get one corner of his mouth up all the way. He thankfully had all his teeth, but Patrick couldn’t help but think that just for a moment he saw blood in Pete’s mouth.

But the damage done to his sweet little face wasn’t even the worst of it.

“What… what happened to you?” Patrick asked. “I mean, like… what’s wrong with you?”

“I was driving home.” Pete’s voice began to sound strained, more scratchy than usual. “It was really icy. I was driving on this road with a lot of turns, and I didn’t make one of them. I slid off the road down into the woods and rammed my car into a tree.”

“How bad is it?”

“Well… they don’t know yet. They’re pretty sure the impact did something to my ribs. That’s not even accounting for all the bruises. Half my body is just black and blue.”

“Poor thing,” Patrick sighed. He walked closer to Pete’s bed and gently reached out his hand. He wanted to touch Pete: to run his fingers through his hair, to trace the thorns around his neck, to gently caress his soft cheeks. But he didn’t dare lay a finger on him for fear that a single touch could cause Pete immense pain.

“I’ll be okay, Patrick. I promise.”

“I don’t know, Pete. Are you going to be able to come home for Christmas?”

“Oh, come on, that’s just a few days away. If you get your hopes up like that…”

Patrick felt tears rushing to his eyes. If a few days was getting his hopes up, he couldn’t imagine what Pete considered a reasonable amount of time.

“I don’t want you to be stuck in a hospital for days, Pete! I don’t want you to go through that and I don’t want to be away from you for Christmas.”

“It’ll be okay, Patrick. I’ve stayed in a hospital overnight before. And it was worse than this, at least here I’ve got all the pens and paper I could ever want. I could write you shitty emo poetry.”

“You’re too sweet. This is why I don’t want to spend Christmas without you, okay? You’re just… you just make me so happy.”

Pete sighed.

“I wish I could hug you right now,” Patrick mused. “If I knew it wouldn’t hurt you, I’d pick you up and hold you as tight as I possibly could.”

“And if the doctor hadn’t specifically told me not to let you do that, I would gladly accept,” Pete replied, laughing. It was a meek laugh, a laugh stifled by hurting. That laugh made Patrick so sad. He could hear how much Pete was hurting.

“I love you, Pete,” Patrick mumbled. He knew he was crying. He tried not to acknowledge it, but he could feel the warm tears falling down his face.

“Love you too.” Pete smiled up at him. It only made Patrick cry harder.

A few moments of silence passed as the two of them looked at each other. Then there was a knock on the door.

“Mr. Wentz?”

“Come in,” Pete said.

A woman in a white lab coat stepped through the door. She carried a clipboard, which looked official and made Patrick very nervous.

“Oh… you have a guest. Mr…”

“Stump. Patrick,” Patrick said awkwardly, extending his hand for a handshake just before realizing the doctor didn’t have a free hand.

“My apologies, Mr. Stump, but I’m going to have to ask you to step into the hallway for a few minutes while I talk to the patient about a few things,” the doctor told him.

“He can stay,” Pete interjected.

“I’m sorry. Standard procedure.”

“He’s my significant other.”

Patrick cringed. The woman raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t care. Unless you’re actually married, I’m still going to have to ask him to step out. You can tell him whatever you want afterwards though.”

“Alright,” Patrick sighed. He slowly walked out the door, casting a longing glance back at Pete as he did so. Patrick sat down in the hall right next to the door, his knees held tightly to his chest and his head down. Tears flowed from his eyes, and he wasn’t sure if he was crying out of sadness over what had happened to Pete or fear of how bad it was. The image came back into his head of Pete’s ribcage being cracked open and blood and bone descending upon his insides.

_It’s nonsense,_ he kept telling himself. _If Pete was truly that bad he’d be in too much pain to talk._

But what did he know?

Sooner or later, the doctor walked back out the door. She didn’t even acknowledge Patrick as she walked past him.

“Can I go back in and see him now?” Patrick called after her.

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied, going back to unlock the door to Pete’s room and kindly ushering Patrick in. She then left the two of them to themselves and shut the door behind her.

“So… how bad is it?” Patrick asked, trying his best to maintain eye contact with Pete. It was hard. For whatever reason it felt wrong for Pete to see him cry. After all, it was Pete who had gotten into that awful accident, not him.

“It’s going to be okay,” Pete assured him, smiling.

“Are you sure? Did they find anything?”

“I just have a… minor fracture. And a fair bit of cuts and bruises, but nothing too worrying. Just means I have to not move a lot over the next few days, which knowing me shouldn’t be an issue. I should be able to go home tomorrow. The reason I was so shaken up after the accident was mostly down to shock apparently.”

“It’ll do that to you, I guess.” Patrick forced a smile. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Well… there’s just one thing…”

“What is it?” The smile fell from Patrick’s face.

“Look… I know I said the roads were icy, but the truth is I kind of lied.”

“I mean, I noticed. I wasn’t going to bring it up.”

“Trick, I’m so sorry.”

“Pete, it’s fine. Maybe you were a little tired or drunk or whatever. Or you were just being stupid. I don’t care, alright? I’m just glad you’re okay!”

“No, it’s not like that, it’s… never mind. You’re right, anyway. I was just being stupid.”

“Aww, I love you, dumbass.” Patrick smiled again. This time it was brighter, more genuine.

“I love you too.”

“Can I hug you? Can you move enough for me to hug you?”

“I’ll try. Be gentle, okay?”

“Okay,” Patrick laughed.

Pete managed to jostle himself up just enough that his back wasn’t against the pillow anymore. Patrick leaned over him and hugged him as gently as he could manage.

“Ow,” Pete said, smiling.

“Sorry,” Patrick replied, letting go of him.

“No, it’s fine. It didn’t hurt. Hug me again.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck. I love you, Pete,” Patrick proclaimed, hugging Pete a little tighter this time. “I love you so much and I’d die if anything ever happened to you.”

“I know, Patrick. I love you too.”

Patrick fell asleep on a couch in Pete’s hospital room. It was hard and uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to go home and leave Pete there alone.

It was around noon the next day when Pete finally got the okay to go home with Patrick. He quickly shed his hospital gown (which Patrick had to admit somehow looked unreasonably cute on him) and donned his t-shirt and jeans from the previous day. His hoodie was a bit too bloodstained for him to get away with wearing out of that room, and he shivered all the way out to the car. Patrick put his arm around him and held him as close as he could. As soon as they got into the car, Pete draped the slightly bloody sweatshirt over himself and Patrick turned on the heat as far as it would go. They were silent all the way home, but it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was cozy and comfortable. It felt good, just the two of them together.

Patrick had the Christmas radio station on, and some song he couldn’t remember the name of was playing. It was pretty though. He could see Pete nearly drifting off to sleep next to him despite it being mid-day.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” he said as he pulled the car into the garage. “We’re home.”

“I’m not sleeping,” Pete mumbled, slowly climbing out of the car and following Patrick into the house. Patrick rushed past him so he could turn on all the Christmas lights before he got inside. Pete entered the living room and saw it lit up with twinkling lights, and Patrick sitting among the presents under the Christmas tree.

“Awww, Patrick… this is perfect,” Pete squealed. He walked over to Patrick (the look on his face said that he wanted to run) and sat next to him under the tree. Pete practically collapsed into Patrick’s lap, and Patrick ever so gently put his arm around him.

“I’m glad you like it,” Patrick said.

“Yeah,” Pete sighed. He snuggled up close to Patrick, and Patrick cautiously increased the force of his hug. Pete didn’t protest.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting you?” Patrick asked, worried.

“No, it’s fine. It doesn’t hurt, I swear.” Maybe it hurt a little, but Pete really just wanted Patrick to hold him closer.

So Patrick did, gripping Pete tightly in his arms. Pete was curled up in a ball and almost completely in Patrick’s lap, nuzzling up to him like a kitten.

“This is amazing. All of this.”

“I didn’t know you liked Christmas so much,” Patrick said with a giggle.

“It’s not just that, it’s… wow. You just do so much for me. I don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up, Pete,” Patrick said, sweetness catching in his voice. “I love you. I just picked you up from the hospital, I don’t need your self-deprecating crap right now. Be nice to yourself, okay? Please?”

“I’m sorry, Patrick. I was trying to tell you last night, but you wouldn’t listen to me. Or you wouldn’t accept it. I think you already knew.”

“About what? The accident?”

“That’s the thing! It _wasn’t_ an accident!”

“Pete, no.”

“Okay, I wasn’t trying to kill myself. I couldn’t do that to you, or to me really. But I wanted to fuck myself up. Real bad.”

“Well… I’m glad you didn’t.” Patrick was so shaken up. His only instinct was to hold Pete even closer, to hold him tight and never let go.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do something drastic like that again.” Pete sounded choked up. He felt guilty. He knew how much it hurt Patrick. Every time he had hurt himself it had always been Patrick who felt most of the real pain.

“Don’t do _anything_ like that again. Or… try, at least.” The thing was, Patrick was trying too. He wanted Pete to be okay. He was doing everything he could to make that happen.

“I’ll try, Patrick. I will. That’s my gift to you.”

“Really?”

“I mean, I’ll get you other things! I’m not a monster!”

“No, honestly, if you could be okay, that’d be the best gift ever. I mean, I know that’s a lot to ask, but…”

“I will try. I will. But in the meantime, I’ll stick to cookies and tacky sweaters.”

“Those are great too.” Patrick smiled. He planted a soft kiss on Pete’s forehead. Pete nuzzled into Patrick, tilting his head up and gently kissing Patrick’s neck. Patrick blushed.

“I love you, Patrick.”

“Love you too, baby.” Patrick rubbed Pete’s back. He could hear little pops of static electricity emanating off of Pete’s hoodie as he did so.

“Is it too early in the day to go to bed?” Pete asked.

“I don’t know. I bet you missed your bed, didn’t you? Hospital beds suck, huh.”

“That one wasn’t too bad, but yeah. Can we go upstairs? Please?”

“Of course,” Patrick said with a smile. He nudged Pete off his lap, and Pete slowly got to his feet. Patrick turned off the Christmas lights, and the two of them made their way upstairs and crawled into bed.

“I think we should hang a string of Christmas lights around that window,” Pete mused, gesturing at the bedroom window which overlooked the front yard.

“I mean, the more lights the better,” Patrick agreed.

“Tomorrow,” Pete decided, “we’ll hang lights everywhere. Together.”

“Together,” Patrick repeated, a grin crossing his face. “I’d like that.”

“I know,” Pete said with a smile. “Merry Christmas, Patrick.”


End file.
